


And You Want Him Too

by This_is_your_Heichou_speaking



Series: Prurience [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Top Tom Riddle Sr.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking/pseuds/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking
Summary: Tom had brought him here to introduce Harry to his family, as a 'friend', a possible lover. Harry knew this, and when he'd come here last summer he'd been shy, anticipating the relationship that might develop.Harry had thought it sweet - attractive, even fantasised about Tom finally making a move on him. He'd imagined Tom taking him to bed in the dorm rooms and drawing the curtains around his neck, but what was teenage Tom Riddle next to his large, strong, and extremely adult father?





	And You Want Him Too

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed.

" _Shh_ ," a hoarse voice hissed into Harry's ear. Strong fingers tightened on his thigh in warning as he gasped a little too loudly, but Harry could barely think through the haze of lust and pleasure that filled his head. Everything was hot, his body tingling with arousal all over until he was oversensitive everywhere. He knew he had to be quiet, knew that Tom was sitting just a bookshelf away. The slightest noise could break him from his reading stupor and lead his friend to investigate, but as Harry climbed higher and higher towards orgasm, he cared less about the consequences and more about the dick up his arse.  
  
"Sir," he huffed out, readjusting his hold on the wall just a little. His shoulders and thighs ached, but Harry felt so warm and electrified that it mattered little. He shifted his foot to rest higher on the bookshelf, much to Mr. Riddle's apparent pleasure. The man fucked Harry slowly, each press of his hips a new gift. Harry could feel every inch of the shape of him as it slid inside him, could feel it straining against his insides and pressing right up against his prostate. It was a torturous pace - Harry ached for him to speed up, to send him hurtling towards the end, but at the same time he didn't want this to end too quickly, too easily. The dichotomy tore his mind down until he could barely speak, never mind think anything other than ' _so good, so fucking_  good.'  
  
His lover flicked affectionately at his nipple, and the sharp twinge of his nail against his sensitive chest had Harry gasping. He whined a little, but before he could even register the sound he'd made Mr. Riddle's large hand covered his mouth, shutting him up properly. He closed his eyes, trying to push back so that he could feel more of that cock, of the strong arms half holding him up, of the breath on his nape that was just _this_  side of being a growl of frustration. He wanted to come like this, wanted to come all over the fancy carpet until it would leave a stain that would never come out just so that Mr. Riddle would remember fucking him like this every time he saw it. His skin was flushed red with his blood, but Harry felt cold at the same time. His skin felt overheated and yet Mr. Riddle's hands felt warm on his skin, so that Harry could tell where they rested on his body at all times.  
  
He wanted this so much, had been _begging_  for this for so long. Tom had brought him here to introduce Harry to his family, as a 'friend', a possible lover. Harry knew this, and when he'd come here last summer he'd been shy, anticipating the relationship that might develop. But the senior Riddle was so much more mature, so much more forward, that Harry could only stare at him in unexpected desire. Because where Tom was inherently selfish, Mr. Riddle knew how to give him what he needed. Tom was still inexperienced, reluctant and arrogant all at once, but his _father_. Oh, the older man knew how to play his body like the devil played his goddamned golden fiddle.  
  
Harry had thought it sweet - attractive, even _fantasised_  about Tom finally making a move on him. He'd imagined Tom taking him to bed in the dorm rooms and drawing the curtains around his neck, but what was teenage Tom Riddle next to his large, strong, and extremely _adult_  father? The man had taken one look at him and smirked like he already _knew_  Harry was going to end up in his bed, like he could see Harry with face flushed and thighs parted, inviting him between them without shame. Mr. Riddle had spent the rest of the holiday casually touching him, making filthy innuendos and stroking Harry's shoulders and touching his thighs under the dinner table  until he was ready to burst.  
  
So when his friend's father had snuck into his bedroom and slipped under his bedsheets, who was he to resist? When Mr. Riddle fucked him with Tom sleeping just next door, slow but sure, steady and hard, Harry could only ever have taken his cock like the hungry boy he was. He could only ever have pushed back, satisfied as his arousal was sated.  
  
Except that now he couldn't get enough. It was like an addiction, an epidemic. Mr. Riddle only needed to _look_  at him and, like a conditioned pet, Harry would start to harden in desire. He needed to be fucked _all the time_ , and Mr. Riddle seemed all too willing to comply.  
  
And now this, where Harry found himself being fucked with Tom sitting just a bookshelf away. If he pressed his face up against the shelf, he could see his classmate's face through the gaps between volumes of ' _The Encyclopaedia Britannica_ '. The teenage boy sat in his armchair, fully immersed in some book or another, his face half turned away. He looked so peaceful, so elegant - the very picture of an aristocratic heir, with his hair perfectly coiffed and his collar perfectly pressed.  
  
He had no idea, Harry thought. No idea what was going on just a few metres away, had no idea that his own father was fucking his cock into his friend's arse in tight, controlled thrusts. He didn't know it now and he hadn't known it yesterday, when Harry had called off sick but had been on his knees for Mr. Riddle during dinner, or when Tom had gone to the bathroom for a quick shower and his father had bent Harry over to take his cock.  
  
Harry wondered what would happen if he decided to find another book. He imagined Tom coming up to the very bookshelf and leaning down to get at the lower rows. He imagined him removing a volume, and being faced with Harry's hanging, desperate erection. What would he look like when he realised that his own father was fucking his intended lover? Would he walk away, angry, or would he perhaps lean down and kiss the head of Harry's erection? Would he suck on him, maybe slide a finger into Harry's twitching arse to lay alongside his father's cock as it moved in and out, in and out?  
  
As he watched, half wishing for Tom to discover them, his classmate instead put down his book and stood, a faint frown on his face as he left through the open door. Mr. Riddle immediately grabbed Harry's hair and pushed his face down so that his arse stuck out. With the other, he took firm hold of his hip and started fucking him harder, deeper, until Harry was crying out with each push.  
  
"Oh look at you, you little slut," Mr. Riddle whispered in his ear. "Even with as much dick you're getting, you're not happy. You'd like _him_  to fuck you too, wouldn't you." And he pulled out, pushing at Harry's shoulder until he lay on the thick carpet with his chest to the soft wool and his arse in the air. "You wanted him to find us, didn't you," Mr. Riddle hissed, and grabbed his hair again to pull his head to the side just so he could bite at the skin there.  
  
"Yes!" Harry cried out, pushing back desperately. "I want him to find you fucking me and stick his dick in my mouth. I want you to fuck me in front of him while he's eating, to fuck me next to him while he's sleeping. I want you to make him suck my cock while I suck yours."  
  
Mr. Riddle laughed, the sound full of dark promises. "Oh dear," he taunted, "you _are_  a filthy boy." He raised his hand to play with Harry's nipple, pinching it so abruptly that Harry arched with the sudden shock of sensation. It was so much, so quickly that Harry wasn't sure if it hurt or not, but what he _was_  sure of was that he wanted more. He reached back desperately, threading fingers into dark hair so like Tom's, and pulled the man's head closer.  
  
"What do you want, my dear?" Mr. Riddle asked as he didn't already know.  
  
Harry tried to look back at him, begging with his eyes for Mr. Riddle's tongue, and oddly enough to the man's eyes softened. He leaned over and licked at the shape of Harry's lips gently, slowly becoming more and more aggressive as he neared his orgasm until he was suckling and biting Harry's lips swollen. He thrust harder, the wet _shlick_  of his cock sliding into him seeming louder and louder until Mr. Riddle was biting hard enough to make him bleed and coming inside his body.  
  
The entirety of Harry's left shoulder twinged with the marks that Mr. Riddle had left on him, and his nipples felt swollen red with the attention given to them. His thighs had marks from too-tight fingers and, as Mr. Riddle complied, his lips too were left red and puffy. The only part that remained untouched was his smooth red cock, hanging between his legs and unstimulated except for the first few minutes of their tryst.  
  
Harry nearly sobbed as he climbed higher, questing fingers reaching for his erection when they were snagged by an unforgiving hand. " _Please_ ," he moaned, but Mr. Riddle only laughed as he slowed down, fucking Harry gently as he came down from his orgasm.  
  
"Oh _no_ , baby boy," he said, amusement thick in his voice. He pulled out of Harry with a wet sound, ignoring his sob of despair. "Not yet, not like this."  
  
His hands were softer now, Harry thought dazedly. They turned him until he was on his back, his thighs drifting far apart almost as if on instinct. He felt tired both in mind and body, but he couldn't help but focus everything on the ache between his legs. He wanted to come so badly, wanted to ease the heat that was cooled so tightly in his stomach.  
  
"Oh _sir_ ," he mumbled, almost as if drugged. It was a task to keep his eyes open and focused when all they wanted was to close, but he managed to notice the way that Mr. Riddle's smile turned softer around the edges, the way his shoulders eased until they were more rounded. "Oh sir," Harry moaned out again, hands reaching to tangle fingers into his lover's hair. " _Please_."  
  
"Please?” the man muttered almost fondly. "Oh you sweet, _sweet_  boy, you've got me all wrapped around your pretty little fingers. How could I say no?"  
  
Before Harry could question as to what he had meant, Mr. Riddle had leant down to take his erection in his mouth. Harry almost screamed from the sudden influx of sensation, grasping black strands of hair even tighter as his he bit his other fist to keep quiet. Mr. Riddle sucked on him, his tongue rubbing the underside of his cock as his fingers slid over and around the rim of his sore arse. His other hand stroked at his perineum with just a finger until Harry eventually wound himself up so tight there was nothing to do but release.  
  
When he came it was like letting go of a breath he'd held for too long. His thighs and fingers relaxed until he felt boneless, unable to even comprehend the idea of getting up. He could've fallen asleep right where he was, his own cum coating his stomach, but Mr. Riddle didn't let him. Distantly he heard the man redo his belt and straighten his shirt, and then he was being lifted into strong arms.  
  
He sighed, closing his eyes with a smile. ' _Sweet boy_ ,' Mr. Riddle had called  him. Yes, Harry could get used to this.


End file.
